Pushing Band Candy Or a Year in Suzaku's Life
by C. Hawthorne
Summary: Suzaku hasn't talked to him in three years, not since that day. But it isn't easy approaching your ex best friend, who just happens to have become super popular. This year, though, all thanks to a simple band project assigned to them by the ever-observant Milly Ashford, it becomes clear that sometimes you've just got to take a chance. AU, two-shot. For akhodayar.


_A gift for Ashley__**, **__my favorite band geek. Code Geass and band is possibly the craziest idea we've ever had, and that's saying something._

_Pushing Band Candy  
(Or a Year in My Life)_

A 2-Shot

––—∞—––

"Get in line, everyone! The game is starting in _five _minutes!"

Underneath the suffocating and loudly-colored red helmet of his uniform, Suzaku Kururugi is broiling with irritation. Today is the first football game of the year, and of course, he isn't all that excited. Games are his least favorite part about band.

(Okay, that probably sounded weird, but he really hadn't _wanted _to join. Well maybe he had, but he still can't find it in him to be as passionate about it as the others. Like Milly, who's currently threatening to beat up Rivalz with one of the majorettes' batons.)

Good times, good times.

Nunnally Lamperouge, the assistant Band Director (though she more or less does the job anyway, since Gottwald just sleeps through everything) sits in the office, unaware of how much pain she's causing him and the other competent members of the band. Really, it's not even an important game! They aren't scheduled to play Valencia until next month!

Thinking about it more, though, Nunnally isn't the one who decides when they have to be here. The school is. She really just reads the schedule over the intercom.

"Get in line!" she repeats, sounding strained. It really isn't in her to be bossy, but Milly takes over soon enough, shoving some of the freshmen and insignificant upperclassmen into their respective lines.

Rivalz stands, arms akimbo, to the right of the band, because the guitar was sent 'to be cleaned', and he really doesn't have to do anything 'except be here.' Suzaku snorts.

His face changes, though, when he spots him: Lelouch Lamperouge, a trumpet (but the only _silver _trumpet) and quite possibly the most attractive person Suzaku knows, making his way to his section. His mouth is dry.

(_You really forgot, didn't you?)_

Milly marches them forward, and Suzaku struggles not to step on Shirley's feet.

Things go somewhat well for a little while, and then the sound of the piccolo makes him jolt. The injudicious C.C. … still, she's the only other person in the band besides himself who plays her own unique instrument, so he can't help but feel a strange kinship with her.

The kind of kinship where you want to strangle the other person. Because other than Nunnally, she is the only person apparently good enough to be friends with the senior trumpet.

As if reading his mind, Lelouch begins to play – that same jaunty little tune he always does – and the rest of the trumpets follow, though a bit less masterfully.

Suzaku eventually focuses on the back of Milly's head. It'll be over soon. Just a few hundred yards and…

He hears the announcer introduce the band; eventually the disgusting heat relents just a little bit, and the slightest snatch of a breeze comes upon them. It blows Lelouch's hair off his neck. He re-adjusts his helmet.

Gino is hissing his name from somewhere up front. Suzaku smiles uncomfortably at the blond drummer. There's always been something just a little off about him. Maybe it's those braids. In any case, Milly heard, and now she's glaring. Suzaku bows his head against the Drum Major's wrath.

Since it isn't the homecoming game quite yet, after their initial foray onto the field, the Ashford Academy Marching Band is allowed a fifteen-minute recess before continuing to play. He has never been more grateful. Maybe he can get some water.

Of course, as soon as they can do so without being screeched at by Milly, the trumpets – as well as the clarinets – make a beeline for Lelouch. He's always the center of attention these days, because unlike the majority of them, he grew up gorgeous. This, of course, excludes C.C.; everyone is convinced they're together, and that they just haven't admitted it yet.

Suzaku tries to ignore them. They were both born bluebloods, and had it made, so what should make them more interesting than anyone else? If anything, they should be boring.

(Boring. Right. That's the reason why _he's _the one who watches Lelouch most of all.)

After getting the much-needed water, Suzaku finds himself imposed upon by Euphemia-call-me-Euphy, one of the majorettes and the girl who's liked him since middle school. "Hi Suzaku. You look a little overheated."

"I think that's a bit of an understatement," he replies as kindly as possible. She smiles, the sort of smile that would make a normal guy's stomach flutter with butterflies (or whatever the saying is).

But the thing is, Suzaku isn't a normal guy.

(_Because of you.)_

It takes some time before he is able to shake that thought. They're appearing more frequently now, these random and unwanted glances into the past. Followed by the sudden crippling of his ability to socialize.

And so – "I'll see you later, okay Euphy? I've got some stuff to take care of."

She tilts her head to the side; a pink plait sways. "Ah? Well, alright then. Just make sure you pay attention to how long you're in the sun. Remember what happened to Kallen last year."

"Right." He turns, her tight-fitting - but in his eyes, totally unappealing – red majorette's uniform disappearing from sight. Suzaku almost envies her. He'd kill to be dressed so scantily; they may as well be in Death Valley with this heat, so it wouldn't matter what he looked like. Hell, he'd go streaking if it wouldn't get him kicked out of the band.

Because no matter how much it annoys him, the band has, in its own way, kept Suzaku afloat these last few years.

_Stop thinking these dramatic thoughts. There's only you and the heat tonight._

And sitting in the band box alone, watching everyone else have fun, Suzaku realizes just how true that really is.

––—∞—––

He and Lelouch do have an encounter that night, if you could even call it that. He's in the bathroom, just sort of staring at the wall, when he comes in, barely even spotting him until Suzaku makes to say something –

…and awkwardly stops himself with a cut off, spluttery noise. _Bad. Bad plan._

After a moment, Lelouch says, "Hi," in a breath, sounding exasperated but happy (of course; he has everyone in the palm of his hand, so why wouldn't he be?). He doesn't even seem to react to the look Suzaku gives him, either, just keeps walking until he occupies the middlemost stall. Suzaku stares.

_Hi. _The first word he said to him in three years. When he'd imagined them talking again (on the rare occasion that he deluded himself into the possibility), Suzaku had heard _I'm sorry _or maybe just _can we start over?_

But no. It was 'hi' and that was it, Lelouch flushing the toilet, washing his hands (Suzaku notes just how clear his face is) and promptly leaving Suzaku alone with his thoughts.

His jumpy, frenzied thoughts. Thoughts it takes more than a little effort to smother. S_top it. The halftime show is in five minutes. Nunnally's probably expecting you outside anyway._

Suzaku lets his eyes wander over to his saxophone, resting on the counter (wasn't he supposed to leave it behind, in the band box?). He'd bought it just after Lelouch convinced him join band.

He picks it up and heads outside to join the uniformed masses.

––—∞—––

All thanks to Gino, the theme this year is _The Beatles. _This wouldn't bother Suzaku so much if they hadn't chosen the absolute most annoying songs possible.

He struggles not to roll his eyes as the trumpets fire into the beginning of _Twist and Shout_. The band has deviated so much from their old music it's almost scary. If only Nunnally weren't so easily influenced – before Gottwald "had his midlife crisis and began spending his nights at the blackjack tables" (a direct quote from C.C), he would never have allowed the students to pick the music.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

However, the interesting part about _Twist and Shout _is that it has a sax solo. Suzaku's first solo since the Christmas Parade last year. He does fairly well for someone who wants to vomit from heat exhaustion and the fact that, in this position on the field, he has a perfect view of Lelouch's long legs and killer smile.

Then the drums take over again and he can relax for a moment, letting out a barely-there sigh and swallowing saliva that isn't there. Twirling her baton all the while, Euphy directs a stunning smile his way. To Suzaku, though, she might as well be an old hag, so he smiles back demurely and stares at his sax.

A breeze creeps through the sweltering ranks. The trumpets grow loud again. Suzaku feels sick.

Applause, and C.C. saunters past him, taking her place at Lelouch's side. As they've taken to doing, the majorettes bow in order.

Suzaku rolls his eyes. _Is it time to go home yet?_

Gino approaches Suzaku (more like runs at him) after, and gives him that annoying bro-embrace although he's impeded by the drums against his torso.

"My main man! Great solo!" Gino's always given him a bit more credit than he deserves. "I'm not gonna lie, that was sick!"

"I don't even like The Beatles," Suzaku says, immediately feeling like an ungrateful twerp, but Gino just laughs and ruffles his hair. He smells like cheap cologne and sweaty boy.

"I still can't get over the fact that they made Lelouch lead trumpet, he's not even a senior!" despite the derision of the words, the Weinberg heir still manages to sound reverent. Suzaku can't blame him, however much he may like to.

"He _is _good," he says distantly, trying to ignore the pain in his stomach. Gino is pressed rather closely against him. "Say, uh – do you want to go get some popcorn?"

"You buying?"

Suzaku does. They sit on a grassy knoll just opposite the concession stand, really unable to see each other as it's past dark now. He can't see any stars. "Do you know if they're dating? Lelouch and C.C.?"

"Huh?" Gino was probably watching the majorettes again. They are the only faction of the band to remain on the field the whole game long. "Well, it's really just speculation. I don't think so. The guy's a little too snazzy to have a girlfriend, in my opinion."

"Why's that?"

"I dunno. Too self-absorbed, maybe."

Well, that's certainly true. Suzaku snorts and takes a bite of popcorn. The salt just worsens his dry-mouth so he lets it alone after that. "Speaking of girlfriends, how did, uh – how'd Kallen work out for you?"

Gino sighs, and it sounds like it's going to be a long story. "She didn't. It turns out she likes girls more than I do, if you'd ever believe it."

Suzaku really can't. He blinks, but after a moment, he remembers everything else that's been going on around here lately, and it ceases to surprise him. "Back to the drawing board, then?"

"I guess so." He takes off his helmet, blond hair looking sticky and dark in the dim light. Suzaku is afraid to see what's under his own. "What about you? Any romance going on in that tiny little apartment of yours?"

"Nah."

Originally, Suzaku thought that becoming emancipated would draw lots of one-night stands to his row-house unit. It hadn't happened once – ever since moving day, it's been Suzaku, his legal papers, and a box full of Euphy's VHS tapes he has no use for.

And to be honest, that's the way he prefers it.

––—∞—–

Monday morning, Suzaku skulks into Chemistry class, having been up all night cramming for the test.

The test Mrs. Lowmeyer is, apparently, postponing. What the fuck. Suzaku sighs loudly and pulls his textbook out of the desk. Gino, to his right, mouths an _I'm sorry _and does the same. Predictably, Suzaku is unable to focus for long. He eventually just sleeps.

Until Lowmeyer raps the top of his desk with a ruler. "Didn't you hear me, Kururugi? Third desk, second row."

Oh, right. Maybe it has been six weeks. Suzaku looks to his right to give Gino a wave goodbye, but Shirley is sitting there now. How long was he asleep? In any case - third row, second seat. Then he can return to that much-needed catnap.

Looking over three rows, and counting two seats, there is indeed an empty spot for him. The only thing that would make this particular revelation even slightly important is the fact that Lelouch's new seat is directly to the right of his.

Great. Two glorious months of listening to the lead trumpet be fussed over by his fan club. He'd honestly rather Lowmeyer have sent him to the principal.

He sits down, but Lelouch does not make eye contact. He continues looking forward, appearing droll and disinterested like always. In the Ashford hierarchy, he's well-known for making laudable grades with absolutely no effort. Just another way he'd lucked out, of course. Lelouch gets everything he wants. That's just the nature of things around here.

Lowmeyer proceeds to give them a lecture about the discovery of subatomic particles, only to bitch about how no one cares enough to pay attention. Gino winks at Suzaku. Suzaku doesn't even notice.

Absentmindedly, after clawing around for one, Lelouch asks, "Do you have a pencil I can borrow?"

Suzaku almost wants to throw it at him. "I want it back at the end of class."

Lelouch nods, but doesn't look up.

Seven whole words Lelouch spoke to him. And then there was that 'hi' Friday. What a strange few days this has been. The young Kururugi stares at the blackboard.

And it really only gets weirder. Halfway through a class that seemed deceptively uneventful, dear Mrs. Lowmeyer decides to spring a surprise project on them. Gino waggles his eyebrows at Suzaku (because they're always partners), but then, as if on cue, their malevolent shrew of a teacher clears her throat.

"And before you all get any ideas, _I _will be picking the pairs this time. Letting you pick has made things counterproductive."

A groan of protest from over half the class, including Suzaku. Lelouch continues writing unaffected.

Shirley, who's under the impression that all the teachers are out to get her, whines, "You're only doing this because of _me!"_

Then, someone else pipes up. "You old hag!"

And perhaps most evil of all: "_I'm transferring to_ _Physics!"_

At this, Lelouch smiles a bit. Suzaku smiles too, then drops it quickly. Old habits really do die hard.

"I want Weinberg with Haliburton," Lowmeyer snaps. "Into the lab, get goggles and an observation log. No, Weinberg, _behind _my desk if I'm talking!"

Gino, as well as stringy-legged Rolo Haliburton, make their way into the connected chemistry lab. Suzaku yearns for the comfortable familiarity of his convenience friend.

"Fenette with Maldini!"

Shirley pouts distantly, but Kanon isn't the worst possible partner. Schneizel, the king of grade-grubbing and passive-aggressive arguments, sits in the back row, a looming threat for the remaining people on the list. He twiddles his thumbs, looking bored.

Suzaku bites his remaining pencil. If he winds up with Kallen (which is looking quite likely considering the quickness with which she's calling out the names) he'll do the work, but she won't argue with anything he says. Sometimes he wonders if she even has free will.

"Kururugi with Lamperouge!"

…or that. Suzaku's eyes almost cross. "I – "

Mrs. Lowmeyer regards him over her silver-rimmed glasses. "Do you have a problem with that?" she asks imposingly.

_I have so many problems with that it should be illegal. _"I just … I feel like I'd work better with Gino."

"I already selected his partner," she reminds him, like he's deaf and didn't hear her the first time. "And now I've picked yours. It's final."

Final indeed. Suzaku takes a breath. It can't be that bad, just… just one measly chem project and he can go back to ignoring Lelouch's existence for the rest of eternity.

"Okay, so, evidently we're supposed to be using the observation logs. I still have one from last week."

It takes him more than a little time to realize it's him Lelouch is talking to. "Ah, hm, yeah."

A tilt of the head; Lelouch looks mildly confused. "Would you like to use it?"

Suzaku takes the log and writes his name at the top, avoiding Lelouch's gaze. "All about subatomic particles again, right?"

"I… believe so." Lelouch frowns a bit as he turns page after page in the textbook. "Did she assign us any real experiment, or…?"

"Something to do with the composition of whatever we're looking at through the microscope. We're supposed to figure out – "

" – the density?"

That's one thing that always annoyed him about Lelouch. His tendency to make him feel dumb. "Yeah, I guess."

Moreover, how is this happening? He's having a conversation with Lelouch sans strangling? Feeling lightheaded, Suzaku swallows and listens to Lelouch read him the directions, then copies them down.

What was the last thing they said to each other? It can't have been particularly cryptic. Maybe he said goodbye. Or was it Lelouch?

(No. It was him. A rushed sort of '_I'll see you later' _before he yanked on his clothes and went scurrying off to catch the city bus.)

It's hard to believe this is the same Lelouch who he declined when he offered him a ride, then never spoke to again.

Lelouch is the one to get the goggles and take initiative. He points at textbook diagrams with a pencil and hogs the microscope. Suzaku just watches. He doesn't think he's capable of doing much else.

At home that night, when he's in the shower, Suzaku cannot help but remember. It appears in his mind before he can really even stop it.

After all, regardless of what had happened later on, it had at least started out as a beautiful day.

––—∞—––**  
**

Three years ago, on August 17th, Lelouch had invited him over. It was a normal occurrence; actually, it happened almost every weekend.

After a while, Genbu's stormy outlook on life got very annoying very fast. Whenever it became too much to bear, Suzaku took the city bus to Aries Villa Estates, an upscale neighborhood the Lamperouges called home.

_Suzaku liked going over to Lelouch's. Newly-divorced Mrs. Lamperouge tittered over him like he was her own, asking him about his schoolwork (to which he'd answer vaguely, rather ashamed of himself) or teasing Lelouch, which amused him greatly. The place was very beautiful but rather cold, as those sorts of houses tend to be, but Suzaku didn't mind. He really liked being there._

_And being with Lelouch. Despite what he might have said about him when they first met, Lelouch was, in addition to a total genius and amazing trumpet player, Suzaku's only foul-weather friend - and as such, he appreciated him greatly. _

_On this particular day, Lelouch seemed rather antsy to be getting upstairs. (Good natured Marianne probably knew he was up to something, but didn't push either of them. Suzaku wishes she had.) With his friend by the arm, the elder Lamperouge sibling hurried up the circular staircase, directly at the top of which was a skinny hallway. His room was at the end._

_With the door safely closed behind them, Suzaku questioned Lelouch as to his motives. _

_As if in answer, Lelouch unearths a large silver flask from beneath his bed. "I found it among my father's old things. What do you suppose it does?"_

_The typical teenage boy, Suzaku was just bursting with anticipation. And stupidity. "I don't know. Have you tasted it?"_

_Lelouch looked at him sidelong, opening and closing the top of the flask as if debating it. "I figure it can't be that bad, if he drinks it. And my mother clearly didn't go to much effort hiding it, so."_

_Suzaku took the flask and once again smelled the contents. "Smells like vodka."_

_His friend's eyebrows jumped. He looked impressed. "You've had vodka?"_

_For a moment, Suzaku considered lying to bolster Lelouch's opinion of him. But then, what if he asked him to describe what it'd been like? Not wanting to wind up with egg on his face, Suzaku shook his head. "I haven't. I've never drank before at all, actually. Have you?"_

_The truth comes more easily from Lelouch. "No. But I would with you."_

_Teenage boys wanting to explore the unknown together. As he tipped the contents of the flask down his throat then watched Lelouch do the same, Suzaku didn't see the potential danger of such plans._

_Quite pleased with themselves, Suzaku and Lelouch went on about their normal activities: watching television, talking at length about the girls they'd met, and lastly, Suzaku listened to Lelouch's latest _

_Then whatever they had drank kicked in. Within a few minutes, things were changing._

_"God, is it hot in here, or what?" Lelouch fanned himself with one of his sheet music books; Suzaku licked his lips. If this was what vodka did, he liked it. _

_Five minutes in, they took off their jackets. Eight minutes, Lelouch was leaning in close. That made the younger's pulse quicken, his skin broil. "Oh, Suzaku," he said. "I don't understand." He sounded pained._

_Suzaku didn't understand either - not too long ago it was so cold in here, and Lelouch was just his friend - he was definitely not the subject of his sudden lust. "I - I want - "_

_Lelouch seemed to understand; he pressed himself even closer, his cheek brushing against Suzaku's._

_(It was then that they both had their first kiss.)_

_It was awkward, and inexperienced, but to Suzaku, it was the most fantastic experience he'd ever had. Lelouch clung to him, murmuring indecent things Suzaku never knew were in his vocabulary._

_like, "You could fuck me. We could be ... each other's first."_

_Suzaku groaned at the thought. He knew he and Lelouch were friends, but this burning - this ache to remove all of his clothes, to make use of his newfound need to copulate for the first time possible - overrode that very quickly. He pushed Lelouch down onto the bed._

_He was beautiful. The seemingly endless expanse of pearly skin drove Suzaku wild. He almost didn't want to touch it, for fear of tainting Lelouch with his own blasted imperfection. "Can I?"_

_In response, Lelouch pressed Suzaku's hand to his stomach. The skin felt like it was on fire. "I - I want you - " the lighter hand on his own brought him down lower, to the clothed bulge between Lelouch's legs._

_This couldn't be happening. But it all seemed so real. And if it was, why not make the most of it?_

_Suzaku smashed his lips against Lelouch's, tasting him, letting him guide his hand along a budding erection. From there, he was drowning._

_The younger boy felt his inhibitions growing painless and light. It was growing impossible to change his mind. He breathed out everything that told him not to do this._

_And he breathed Lelouch in._

––—∞—––

Suzaku turns off the shower and dries himself, flowery hives staining his skin. They always happen when he thinks about him for too long.

He makes himself a burrito in the microwave and eats it while watching the news. Apparently, tomorrow a ribbon will be cut and the Damocles Bridge will be ready for use. Snort. He turns the television off.

Funny thing about memories: people say they make you who you are. Suzaku always thought what had happened with Lelouch changed him.

Most specifically in that it ruined his interest in girls. Ever since that day, he'd stopped finding them all that appealing. And then eventually, they became as annoying as everyone else, no longer anything to be chased after or hoped for.

Lelouch was all there was, and that made him so ashamed. He was his first kiss, his first everything, and dammit, he couldn't even remember half of it.

Does Lelouch?

No. Even if Lelouch _does _remember, why in the world would he tell Suzaku? To dredge up more uncomfortable feelings? They'd both forgotten about it, or at least pretended to. Clearly, of the two of them, Lelouch is the better actor.

Regardless, the next afternoon, at band practice, Suzaku thinks rather seriously about questioning him. Beyond the initial wave of fear is the possibility that he might actually be able to get some questions answered, glean some closure from all of this.

His saxophone gleams in the sun. Nunnally is talking to a somehow-awake Jeremiah Gottwald. Gino is eating leftover popcorn from the game Friday. How nasty. A fly lands on his helmet.

Focus, Suzaku. Focus.

Oddly enough, Lelouch is the one to speak to him, sometime later in the band room. But it's short, concise, and has to do with their chem project. "Did you finish the notes for the opening paragraph yet?"

_Predictable. _Suzaku chews on the inside of his cheek. "I plan on starting it tonight."

"Okay. I was just checking." And that's the end of it; Lelouch returns to the trumpets, who send a collective glare his way.

Because it's just preposterous that he'd _ever _talk to Suzaku, who's not only an Eleven, but also (gasp!) a saxophone.

The brunet practices his part in _Yellow Submarine _with more amity than before. Maybe – just maybe he can get through this without stabbing Lelouch. It's worked out well so far, in the two conversations they've had.

All that matters is that Suzaku maintains his plan of not mentioning _that day. _Easy enough, right?

"D'oh!"

The saxophone part stops abruptly. He looks around, jolted, for the source of that pencil. Rivalz is the culprit, if the way he's raising his eyebrows is any indication.

The blue-haired boy sits and Suzaku has a neighbor in band class for the first time since he enrolled. "Sorry, it was the only way I could think of to get your attention. Milly told me she has your service project figured out."

Suzaku quirks an eyebrow. "Car wash?"

Rivalz smiles sheepishly and he knows he's in for it. "Guess again?"

And he doesn't know how he didn't see it before, but Rivalz is holding a rather large, white cardboard box. "Jesus Christ."

"I'm sorry, Suzaku! But the car wash is the drumline and trumpets this year! You know it alternates." Rivalz does look genuinely sorry, and Suzaku knows he doesn't make the project assignments, so he just shrugs.

"Thanks for telling me ahead of time." He takes the box from Rivalz and puts it under his seat. As this wasn't really so much a social visit as it was an obligation, the guitarist is gone quickly.

His polite acceptance wavers as soon as he is alone; Suzaku has a powerful urge to crush the box, and it is difficult to suppress.

Because now, in addition to having Lelouch Lamperouge as a chemistry partner, Suzaku will now spend the next six weeks pushing band candy to pimple faced freshmen and shame-ridden foodies. He doesn't pick up his saxophone again for the rest of the period.

_Maybe I should've taken Dad up on military school._

––—∞—––

Suzaku unloads ten bars of Almond Joy to customers at work that night. Ten down, ten thousand to go. He counts the money forlornly. It will all go toward Milly's new car, no doubt.

He tries not to think about his landlord, who's been heckling him about the late rent for the better half of a week. Band candy money goes to the band, no questions asked. Besides, he does have this marvelous job selling pizza for minimum wage, so it could be worse.

(He could be Gino.)

"Bathrooms are lookin' especially gorgeous tonight," the blond says with uncharacteristic sarcasm as he slumps in the chair behind the counter. Suzaku, back to him, continues to sort money in the register. "If I wanted to see half the things I see in there – hey, what'sa matter?"

Suzaku shakes his head. "It's just … I got my service project today."

He can't see him, but he knows Gino lit up. "Ah, what did you get? Me, I'm stuck washing the cars … old people can be pretty stingy. There are so many of them in this town."

"I got candy."

There is a pause. Gino whistles lowly. "Well, come on, I guess we all have off days. I had candy last year, you know. Just gotta remember not to snack off your own supply." He laughs, finding himself hilarious. Suzaku does too, a bit, in spite of himself. But the feeling fades quickly. "Look at the bright side. You keep 10% of all profits."

"I guess."

"So you can finally get a new car stereo!"

"I want a new car, period."

"We all do," Gino says sympathetically. "Except, you know, Prez." An affectionate and somewhat sarcastic nickname they use for Milly – she'd wanted Band President, but sneered at the higher prestige of Drum Major. Suzaku just wanted his own seat as well as some peace and quiet. "If old reliable breaks down, I can always give you a ride here if you need it."

"Thanks." In his younger years, Suzaku thought he'd never come to Pizza Planet voluntarily. Now the damn job is his only hope. And he's already had two strikes. "Maybe – "

A buzzer rings, signaling the end of Suzaku's break and the beginning of the end. Yay. He imagines leaving later, then returning in street clothes to shoot up the place. Gino would cover for him.

Surprisingly, his first few customers are pretty well-behaved and non-naggy, which is an impossible luxury most of the time. This Pizza Planet, one of many in a nationwide franchise, is the only one for miles, and is consequently overrun with his smarmy peers as well as old people. Turns out car washes aren't the only thing they're stingy about.

One customer in particular catches his eye. "Suzaku. Hi." Lelouch recognizes him, but gets down to business quickly. "I need two extra-large pizzas, one with everything, one with just cheese."

Suzaku punches it into the register, but his eyes never leave Lelouch. This would've resulted in a blunder had he not memorized the keypad long ago. "Will that be all?"

Lelouch casts an eye backward; C.C. sucks in her cheeks at Suzaku, but otherwise says nothing. "Yes. Thank you."

Suzaku prints two copies of the receipt – one for the cook and one for Lelouch. After giving it to him, Suzaku is expecting to see the next customer, but when he looks up, Lelouch is standing there alone.

His voice is weak. "Did you want something to drink, or?"

Lelouch shakes his head. "I'm just wondering – do you like this job? I don't think we've spoken since you started working here."

_The fucking nerve. _Suzaku steels himself. "It pays the bills."

"That isn't something most people our age worry about," Lelouch says, but he doesn't sound condescending. "Did your parents make you get a job?"

Why the hell is he so curious? "I'm emancipated."

He is surprised to find that Lelouch still makes that same face when he's taken aback by something. Well, there's one thing that hasn't changed. "That must be difficult."

Suzaku just looks at him, saying nothing. Lelouch smiles in farewell and walks off, joining C.C. at a table near the window. She looks at Suzaku incredulously then becomes involved in conversation with Lelouch.

_That must be difficult. That must be difficult. That must be difficult. _The words repeat like a mantra and Suzaku stares at his hands. He doubts Lelouch could even fathom what difficult really is, having spent his entire life at Aries Villa Estates under the comforting veil of a millionaire father and overinvolved mother.

Later, when he watches his ex-friend sip his soda, he wishes he'd spit in it.

––—∞—––

In chemistry the next day, they do actually take _that test. _The one for which Suzaku studied for a few days ago, but then forgot all the information. It is not multiple-choice.

He considers copying Lelouch's test, but damn, his handwriting is still just as small as it used to be. Well, no choice then. The method of being witty by writing nothing. Suzaku counts on it to give him a 0 every time.

On his way back to his seat, he's hit in the back with a paper airplane. What's with people throwing things lately?

It's Gino, asking him rather loudly what the answer to number twelve is. The question goes ignored. Suzaku returns to his seat.

Lelouch is still writing. In fact, it looks like he's penned a damn thesis for every answer. Some things never change.

The brunet sits back in his seat, drawing diamonds on the one piece of scratch paper they were allowed and fretting about his new job of selling candy. Is he supposed to bring the box with him everywhere he goes? Place fliers on the bulletin boards or something? Push it from his locker?

Mrs. Lowmeyer's eyes narrow. "Suzaku!" she barks.

"What?"

"What're you doing?"

"…waiting for the testing to end?"

"You _should_ be working on your project."

_You don't say. _Suppressing his annoyance, Suzaku makes his way to the back of the room to retrieve the logbook (paragraph after paragraph of Lelouch's loopy penmanship and a few notes in his own chickenscratch), goggles and microscope. As soon as he begins to carry the three items, Lelouch turns his paper in at the front of the room. He clears his throat loudly.

"Oh, I'll take that from you," Lelouch says hurriedly, talking the goggles and book but not the microscope. It isn't particularly heavy, but really, his ex-friend could exert himself for once in his life.

They sit at a lab table and the brunet busies himself flipping through the textbook. He'd rather look it up himself than ask Mrs. Lowmeyer. Honestly, the damn project is –

Before he can blink, the other has taken the book and turned it to the proper page, pointing with his pencil as he has taken to do. "See, we're supposed to draw the diagrams the same way as they're drawn in the example. She won't accept anything else, of course."

Suzaku nods pensively and pulls the book away, trying to ignore Lelouch's eyes on him. "So … we do one for each slide?"

"Mm-hm." Lelouch sounds thoughtful, but he can't see his face, so what comes next is impossible to predict. "It's strange, isn't it? You and I, talking again after so long?"

It takes a moment for this to sink in. Suzaku stops drawing and weighs his options for a response.

"So you finally acknowledge it, then." He doesn't believe how composed he sounds. "That we were friends."

The look Lelouch gives him can only be described as disbelieving. "I never denied it."

At this exact and very _convenient _moment, Mrs. Lowmeyer has her hourly bitch fit. "All right, I'm tired of hearing all the chatter! Today is _your last day _to get this done, it's due Monday, so I'd use your _time wisely."_

"Oh, but we are, Mrs. Lowmeyer," Schneizel simpers. Nearly everyone rolls their eyes (except Suzaku, whose own cannot leave Lelouch). "_I _am anyway."

"Yes, well, you would all do well to follow his example," says the bespectacled teacher without looking up. As soon as the lava has cooled a little, Suzaku turns his attention back to his own rather revolutionary conversation.

"You never ignored it? We haven't talked in three years."

Lelouch sighs. "Not quite three, Suzaku. You're off by a few months."

It would be so easy to shove his pencil through Lelouch's eye at this angle. "You're really going to joke about this?"

"In all seriousness," and his tone implies that he means it, "it takes two to tango. Do you think I haven't noticed you glaring at me in band all this time? Forgive me, but you aren't exactly approachable."

_He's… seen? _"What's that supposed to mean?"

Then Lelouch isn't looking at him anymore. He's looking at something directly above him. Or rather, someone. "Suzakuuuuu." It's Gino, looming over his shoulder. Just how long has he been there? "Can you believe the old hag's only giving us one more day?" He drapes himself over him, nearly cheek to cheek – inappropriate levels of intimacy are his coworker's specialty.

"She isn't that old," Suzaku says uneasily, trying very hard not to meet Lelouch's gaze. "Besides, there's still the weekend."

Lelouch says, "Yes, that's true."

Gino's voice is irritatingly loud in his ear. "Hey hey, trumpet! Saw you at my place of employment the other day."

"C.C.'s idea," the young Lamperouge explains, closing his chemistry book and penning something on a small notepad. He rips the sheet off and hands it to Suzaku. "Write down your address."

"Whatever," he says detachedly. Gino's grip on him loosens just a bit, then relents completely. Though he can be annoyingly clingy (literally) Gino usually knows when to bow out of these situations. "You can come over. But only because of this project."

"I hope you're a bit nicer when I do," Lelouch says. Suzaku hates the way he looks at him with those eyes; they always seem to turn him inside out.

––—∞—––

Suzaku never thought a box of candy could really be imposing, let alone absolutely daunting. But staring at it now under the fierce blue eyes of Milly Ashford, he finds that the of-white box full of sweets is very frightening indeed.

"You only have a week," 'Prez' says heavily, "Before the band money is due to the school board. I've been laid back about it up until now, but you're going to have to kick it into overdrive over the next few days."

"I don't have time to sell candy. I have a job, and I usually work from after band practice to close –"

"No excuses!" she cuts across, waving her arm with a flourish. "You'll get a grade cut if you don't unload it all. Plus that's a lot of money the band will never see!"

He could really give a fuck less. The band money all goes directly in Gottwald's pocket, and indirectly, Milly's. "What do you expect me to do?"

"Rivalz could help you," she suggests readily, as if this has been the plan all along. Suddenly it all makes sense – Rivalz has liked Milly since the beginning of time, and it must be very easy for her to manipulate him. "He's already finished program sales. Great profit actually."

Suzaku casts an eye in the bluenette's direction. He's currently holding two flutes to the top of his head and pulling faces at two freshman clarinets. "I don't know about this."

"And Lelouch already told me he'd give you a hand," she says hopefully, as if this will make it any better. "Gino said you guys aren't the best of friends, but we can let bygones be bygones for the good of the marching band!"

Gino's big mouth has gotten him into trouble more than once, but he's never really had the idea to punish him for it up til now. "Why can't you just sell the candy to Lelouch? He'll probably buy the whole box just because he can."

"Don't be bitter, Suzaku. It leads to Botox," Milly informs him in a singsong voice. "Just ask my mom." Suzaku's frown intensifies. "Aw, now you're making it worse!"

With that, Suzaku sets off (only having to return for the sheet music he left behind). Once he's finally back in his seat, he calls after Rivalz, who seems disheartened to leave his freshman fan club. "Yeah, what d'ya need?"

"I was just wondering if you'd maybe want to help me finish up with the candy." Rivalz's mouth opens in protest, but Suzaku is quicker. "Milly said it'd be a good idea."

His expression softens a bit, but to his dismay, Rivalz jerks his head toward the trumpets. "I guess I could, but Lelouch was talking about helping you too."

"I know, but I'm trying not to –"

"Hey, Lelouch!"

"No – don't call him over!" Suzaku hisses, but the sound of Lelouch's trumpet stops, replaced by footsteps. "Thanks, Rivalz."

"No prob." Rivalz is either oblivious to the sarcasm or just being a dick, but it doesn't matter either way. "Hey man, remember when you said you wanted to help Suzaku out? Well, here's your shot." He's walking away already and Suzaku resists the urge to chase the guy and beat him with his saxophone.

"How much candy do you have left, exactly?" asks the violet-eyed boy in front of him. Endlessly polite and demure. There's Lelouch for you.

"About three quarters of the box," Suzaku sighs, passing (or more like tossing) the box to Lelouch. He struggles a bit to keep from dropping it. "Why're you helping me again?"

After righting himself, Lelouch explains, "I've always thought that if you can do anything to help someone, you shouldn't hesitate."

Suzaku's face is expressionless. The Britannian boy smiles.

"Well, I guess the second reason is a bit less noble. I do feel indebted to you. Besides, we seem to be doing pretty well on our project, so I've decided we make a pretty good team. Don't you think so?"

Still wondering why on Earth Lelouch would feel like he wanted his help (and why the notion makes him so mad), Suzaku can only offer, "I guess."

This seems to be good enough. "We can start selling at the car wash tonight, after we finish the posters for our project. I have to be there to help wash cars, but Milly will probably let me take a break. Can you make it?"

Suzaku runs through his schedule in his head, wishing like hell he was set to work tonight. "I think I'm off today."

"Do you want to hold onto this until then?" Lelouch offers the box of candy. "It's heavy and I take the city bus."

Blink. "Home from school?"

Lelouch tilts his head. "Yes, of course. The school buses don't run to my neighborhood."

"…I thought you drove."

He shakes his head in response. "That would be wishful thinking." Lelouch looks at him strangely, like the idea is just so far-fetched. "My mother drives Nunnally home, of course, but no, I take the bus."

"Oh." Suzaku hears the dismissal bell. Students around them hasten to pick up their instruments and music. Neither he nor Lelouch move an inch. "Well, tonight at five, then. Do you need – do you need a ride, or what?"

(He really can't help it. Since learning of the fact that apparently the richest kid in town takes the city bus everywhere, he feels like a douche for his comment on Lelouch buying the candy earlier, even if he wasn't there to hear it.)

But Lelouch shakes his head. "No, no. I have some things to do at home. Thank you, though." He looks warm, genuine. Suzaku envies him for being able to smile like that.

––—∞—––

He isn't exactly thrilled at the idea of spending his entire evening with Lelouch, but Suzaku could at least make his place look a little presentable.

He cleans out Arthur's litter box and shoves the ever-increasing pile of dirty clothes into an unoccupied corner of his bedroom, even though he's sure Lelouch won't go past the kitchen. Still, the fact that he's having company (even company he's not too fond of) makes Suzaku aware of just how filthy the place is.

Whatever. It's four-thirty now. No time. He sits Indian-style on the floor and eats old pizza while watching some cliché sitcom. He almost laughs once or twice. Arthur watches the car keys dangling from his pocket as if hunting them.

The knock sounds a little after five, loud and sharp. Suzaku looks through the peephole, and indeed, it is Lelouch, looking harried. Well.

"Hi."

"Hello." Lelouch cranes his neck. "I didn't know you had a cat."

Suddenly, Suzaku finds himself very self-conscious of the less than laudable state he's let the apartment stoop to. "Do you want to just go, or?"

"Aren't you going to invite me inside?"

"I'd rather not," Suzaku grumbles, but steps aside to allow him entry. Regardless of what else had happened in their friendship, he can't recall Lelouch ever turning _him _away at the door.

Lelouch approaches the couch and opens his bag, unearthing the chart they'd started working on earlier. "We don't have to go for another half hour, so we may as well work on the project. You heard Mrs. Lowmeyer. It's due Monday."

"I know that." He sits as far away from Lelouch as humanly possible."So, we need a three-level electron diagram, and notes to explain each level. One set each."

"I've done mine." Of course he has. "Yours should probably have more to do with the mechanics, since mine's more theoretical."

Though he doesn't really understand, it probably wouldn't be wise to disagree with Lelouch's logic. He is in the National Honor's Society, after all. "...okay."

They work in silence, something Suzaku greatly prefers. It gives him time to write without Lelouch trying in vain to make conversation, like the optimistic prick he is. This new _let's be friends _mindset of his deeply irks the other, to the point where he's currently considering hurling the electron chart at his head. Maybe _that _would make Lelouch come to his senses.

But he doubts it.

"Suzaku," Lelouch asks suddenly a little into the ride, "Do you even really like band?"

Oh, what a question. He doesn't really know how answer it. "I've been in it four years now. I don't see why I'd quit."

Lelouch hums thoughtfully. "I didn't hear you say you like it. You don't seem to."

"Well, if you remember," Suzaku ventures, his chest suddenly tight, "you were the one who convinced me to do it. That day – back in eighth grade."

"I do remember." Lelouch crosses his legs. "I remember... that day... clearly."

_Oh god. _Suzaku tries his very hardest to focus on the road. "I don't," he begins, finding it very hard to breathe. Lelouch doesn't say anything for a time, perhaps looking for words.

"I think a lot of that was a misunderstanding."

The words cut through Suzaku's psyche and sting – how _dare _Lelouch try and make light of - ! "How do you get off thinking that's a misunderstanding, you – you - " A loud honk cuts him off; apparently they've been at the stoplight a bit longer than their fellow drivers would prefer. He drives onward, seething. "You _drugged _me."

Lelouch huffs in disbelief. In a cutting voice, he says, "Why exactly do you think I would do that?"

"Then why did you - "

"It was a mistake. I thought it was alcohol but evidently, I was wrong. Big surprise. I was thirteen. I shouldn't have been prowling around in my father's things." He inhales sharply. "But you're sadly mistaken. I never wanted you."

The words wash coldly down Suzaku's spine; jaw tightening, he actually finds himself on the verge of tears. But they don't come. "So what happens now, then?"

"You can go back to hating me for no reason once we're finished with the fundraisers and the project," Lelouch tells him sourly. "Though as I've said before, I'd really rather now feel you glare at me in band class."

Right now, Suzaku wants nothing more than to shake Lelouch by the shoulders and demand answers. The thing is, he can't think of any questions.

And besides, they've reached the school.

"You two came together? Teamwork at last ~" Milly cooes when they reach the band table outside the gym. "You're the only ones here so far, actually. Besides Rivalz."

"When I heard 'car wash' I thought there would be bathing suits involved," the guitarist grumbles, toying with Milly's megaphone.

"So I'm the only one washing so far?" Lelouch asks, looking at the attendance clipboard. "I'd have thought Weinberg would be here by now..."

A growl jerks Suzaku from his staring contest with the ground. Milly looks like she's hatching a plan. "You're on sign duty with Suzaku now. Just make sure you hold up your sign this time, Lelouch!"

He rolls his eyes. "I'll do my best."

And so, he and Suzaku wind up outside the main entrance to the school, garish hand-painted signs in tow (Suzaku made a mental note to accost Shirley later for their ugliness). "Why do we _both _have to do signs?"

"To make sure the most people see them," Lelouch explains, infuriatingly conversational. Suzaku wants to hit him over the head with his sign. "Be sure not to wave it around too much."

Euphemia arrives not long after this, her long hair in a rare updo. "Suzaku!" she exclaims, nearly running at him. Though Lelouch is beyond his last nerve, Suzaku manages to smile at her.

"You're on signs?" she asks, face falling.

"Yeah, is it that bad?"

"Oh, not really." She bounces from one foot to the other. "I meant to ask you – are you free tomorrow?"

"Uh... I get off work at four."

Her blue eyes light up as if he's just guaranteed her the cure to world hunger. Suzaku's stomach twists, and in his anxiety he fails to notice the scathing look Lelouch is giving Euphy. "Well maybe we could go for ice cream? There's a new place by the bowling alley! Or maybe... I'll check if there are any good movies playing... oh, what's wrong, Lelouch?"

"Boredom," he says noncommittally, with a lazy grin.

"Oh." The majorette gives him a sympathetic look. "Don't worry! We go on break at seven! Though I still don't know why we're doing this at night, of all times... anyway, Suzaku, I'll call you about tomorrow, but I have to go. I'm on rinsing duty!"

She runs off, and Suzaku wishes he were as happy about anything as Euphy looked about rinsing duty.

He's alone with Lelouch again. The older sighs, and it seems there's meaning behind it, but he says nothing, leaving Suzaku to replay their argument over and over again.

(_I never wanted you)_

He'd never wanted him, either. At least not with any sense of urgency. Sure, Lelouch had been attractive, even in the throes of early adolescence, to the point where Suzaku would simply sit and admire him on occasion. But the way Lelouch had said those four words – voice cutting, with intent to harm – made Suzaku wonder if Lelouch thought of that admiration as motivated by something else. Like, perhaps, Suzaku loving him.

Which, right now, couldn't be further from the truth.

"I never knew you liked Euphemia."

It takes a second for the words to sink in. "I don't," he replies honestly, with a tinge of guilt he's sure Lelouch hears. "She's my friend."

"That doesn't mean anything," says Lelouch with a knowing air. Suzaku knows from his eyes that he's revisiting that day again as well. "I don't think you should be leading her on, at any rate."

"I'm not. You don't know anything about it." Suzaku frowns. "Don't try to give me friendly advice. I don't want any. Especially not from you."

Violet eyes narrow, more out of thought than anything else. "You've always been vengeful, Suzaku."

"And you've always been concerned when you think you can get something out of it."

"Don't assume you know anything about my life," Lelouch whispers harshly, as Gino is approaching - "because you've just scolded me for the same thing."

"Suzaku, Lelouch! What an unlikely pair!" Gino looks as if he just rolled out of bed, but that's really of no consequence. It's never effected his luck with women, which seems only second to Lelouch's. He winks at Suzaku and the brunet wants to knock his lights out. "I'm just here to fill in for Gottwald. He has rickets. Whatever those are."

"Gino," Lelouch's voice is level. "Would you mind leaving Suzaku and I alone for a minute?"

Gino blinks, then gives the youngest boy a knowing look. "Uh – okay, I'll go talk to Rivalz, then. He looks a little down in the dumps. Prez must be milking his crush for all it's worth today..."

Once the blond is out of earshot, Lelouch rounds on Suzaku, energy suddenly renewed. "What _exactly _have you told him?"

Just like that, Suzaku's blood starts to boil; hanging around Lelouch for long periods can't be good for his blood pressure. "Why? Are you too ashamed that you used to be my friend for anyone to know?"

"Oh, don't be melodramatic," he chides. "I just wanted to know. He looked a bit worried to leave you with me." He sounds resentful. Suzaku bites the inside of his lip, willing the other to stop talking. Of course, that hope is in vain. "...I still don't see why you'd think I'd _do _something like that. It's absolutely ridiculous."

"Can we just not – can we stop talking about it? It doesn't fix anything, or prove it didn't happen."

Lelouch sucks in a breath. "I never said it _didn't happen. _I'm trying to tell you that I didn't mean for anything like that to happen. I was just as surprised as you were."

Somehow Suzaku doubts that, but thinking on it more, he finds he vaguely remembers Lelouch's face when they awoke, panicked, next to one another. His stomach flips uncomfortably. "Why did you wait this long to argue your case, then? It's been four years."

"I assumed you knew," Lelouch says shakily, though he looks composed, "Since you didn't try and attack me or anything. I figured you just bowed out of our friendship because you didn't want to talk about it."

It's strange, discussing the past so seriously at a band fundraiser. But then, what in Suzaku's life has ever been normal? "You shouldn't have jumped to conclusions, then," he replies, closing his eyes to Lelouch's determined face.

"Neither should you." When he sees Lelouch again, he's smiling shallowly, staring at the grass. "We never used to argue like this. I suppose... it's just what happens when you grow up."

Suzaku snorts. "That's not exactly how I'd put it."

He shakes his head. "No. I... I've lost four years of our friendship I can never get back. It's just another foolish thing I've done. I made a mistake by not – by not coming to you and explaining myself. I'd rather have lost our friendship than face you. I'm a coward."

"I'll say."

"But so are you."

Clenching his teeth, Suzaku frowns at Lelouch. "No. I didn't want to talk to someone who'd ignore me after something like that. That doesn't make me a coward."

Lelouch waves a car in the direction of Gino and the others, then gives him a pointed look. "No, I suppose not," and a breathless, sardonic laugh. Suzaku is transfixed by the smile, however ironic it may be. "I've just realized – I forgot the candy in your car. Hand me the keys."

Suzaku makes to, but hesitates – wary of Lelouch's outstretched hand. A pair of dark brows raise and he just drops them, looking away quickly. While he isn't the biggest fan of Lelouch, his ex-friend is competent enough to avoid crashing Suzaku's car. Besides, the more of that damn candy they sell, the faster he'll be rid of him, and the faster he can go back to hating Lelouch.

That thought is followed by a time-altered memory of Lelouch saying

(y_ou've been hating me for no reason)_

and Suzaku, despite his best efforts, cannot help but concur. Because ever since they were young, he's trusted Lelouch. And fuck, he's got this growing suspicion that he trusts him now, too – _now, _despite what happened– now, watching from afar as that slender frame cranes to lift the box of candy from the passenger's seat. It's ridiculous, really ridiculous, and Suzaku just wants... he just wants...

"Looks like you have a whole of lot Snickers and Butterfinger," Lelouch surmises, lifting up the white top. "Luckily for you, those are the president's favorites."

"Maybe you can go bring her some," Suzaku answers tonelessly, staring desperately at Lelouch, as if looking for some other reason to yell at him.

"Maybe." The sound of crickets in the background seems to alert Lelouch. "It'll get dark soon. I'd better just bring them to her now. Rivalz will sell a good few, I think."

He wonders how Lelouch seems so much less confused than he does. Maybe it's because Lelouch knew the truth all along, had peace of mind about -

Well, okay, it would be rather stupid to assume either of them were at peace with this. Suzaku knows he certainly isn't, and can't quite shake that feeling of being taken advantage of. That part certainly still hurts. At the time, of course, he'd been elated by it all – but the memory of it has only ever made him sick since then.

Right now, though, he's just – curious. What all does Lelouch remember? And how does he feel about all of it in general?

Suzaku feels he must make haste in asking these questions, since it won't be too long before they stop talking completely... if things go as expected. Life has taught him that this seldom if ever happens.

Eventually, Milly decides they won't get any more business tonight (a revelation the rest of the band made over an hour ago), and they are dismissed – Rivalz and Gino hoot gleefully, and everyone erupts into pointless chatter, making it rather difficult for Suzaku to concentrate on finding his keys. The Prez made it a personal rule that everyone had to relinquish their keys to her upon arriving at any function to keep them from sneaking off. Suzaku never understood this rule, as most of them just accepted the fact that they were going to be wasting their weekends with the band anyway.

Well, maybe _wasting _isn't the most accurate word in his case. He doesn't have much to do that doesn't somehow involve baking pizza.

Suzaku doesn't ask Lelouch if he needs a ride, assuming C.C. will take the responsibility – even though she'd been placed on wash duty, several of Suzaku's breaks were spent waiting for her and Lelouch to stop talking.

The sun is nearly gone by the time he reaches his beat up Sedan, but Suzaku can still clearly make out Lelouch standing next to it, arms crossed. "You can drive me home, can't you?" He inquires. Suzaku knows that even if he _couldn't _drive him, he probably would have anyway, work be damned – that's the thing with Lelouch. An inconvenience though he is, no one can refuse him.

But that doesn't mean Suzaku is jumping for joy at having him in the passenger's seat. This meant he would have to drive into Aries Villa Estates and be hailstormed with childhood images of the pair of them – _happy _images, mind you, all sun and laughter.

Fate, though its proper name is a mystery, is cruel. Suzaku always pictured it as a coal-eyed woman, a bitch with puppets on strings. Mother Nature, her sibling, was just as much of a sadist. Bad habits ran in families.

But then, Suzaku thinks - as his tires crunch on gravel lining the driveway up to Lelouch's house – so do kindness, humility, good sense. He's reminded of this only by the realization that Marianne Lamperouge is somewhere inside this house. She mothered two well-rounded children who could figure anything out. As a child, Suzaku had often wished Genbu could have known her, learned the oft-elusive secrets of successful parenting.

Thick-armed deodar trees wave a welcoming hello. Perennials line the vast perimeter of the house, their spryness indicating an attentive gardener. "You have a green thumb, Lelouch?"

"Mm? Oh, well, I don't know anything about planting. I just water them sometimes."

The resonance of Lelouch's voice makes Suzaku look over at him, take in his solemn expression. The Japanese teen knows quickly that there's more to this conversation than flowers, though you couldn't really tell by listening.

In the distance, an owl repeats its single, monotonous question. It makes Suzaku think more of how long it's been since he's been here, like perhaps that nocturnal bird is the Lamperouges' de facto security guard.

"Well, Lelouch, I'll guess I'll see you Monday," he says, finally tearing his eyes away from the house and placing them on his former friend.

Lelouch doesn't move, and neither do his eyes. Were this a fairy tale, they likely would have turned Suzaku to stone by now. "How long has it been since you've been here?"

The owl starts again. _Hoo, hoo, hoo._

_(who...who...who?)_

"A few years."

"Yes."

"What's your point?" he asks flatly. Lelouch allows him nothing but another persistent purplish gaze; Suzaku becomes irritated quickly. "Your mom's probably worried about you."

Finally, the older ends their staring contest, countering, "I'm not bothered. She's always worried about something."

"What do you mean?"

Lelouch takes a breath. "How many possible meanings could that sentence have?"

Resentment, rather than anger, colors Lelouch's voice, and Suzaku finds himself synchronizing with him rather quickly.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what goes on around here anymore."

Silence reigns, but in it dwells an implicit question: _and whose fault is that?_

Perhaps neither of them comment because neither of them know the answer, but Suzaku _wants _to say Lelouch is to blame. Lelouch's thoughts aren't all that easily read, so Suzaku doesn't know if he'll have to argue that point.

Lelouch reaches over, brushing Suzaku's wrist with his sleeve as he removes the keys from the ignition. The engine dies, leaving them in momentary silence – one that Suzaku doesn't break. The passenger's door opens and the passenger himself beckons with a hand.

A man possessed, Suzaku follows Lelouch around the familiar path up a small hill. At the end is the dim shape of the Lamperouges' Tudor-style abode, punctuated occasionally by warm, lamplit windows. The sight is too inviting, yet he is not bothered, despite the crawling sensation in his stomach at the onslaught of memories and the persistent hooting of that omnipresent owl.

This house still smells the same. Like some downy flower Suzaku cannot identify and a mixture of different candles – the ones their grandmother sent them from Pendragon. The aroma used to comfort him, but now he isn't sure how he feels about it. The furniture has changed in places, but there isn't a notable difference from the place fourteen year old Suzaku often visited and the one eighteen year old Suzaku returns to, stuck in limbo between the foyer and the outside.

Lelouch says, "Flies are going to get in."

Right. He lets him close the door and walks across the foyer, taking in the painted portrait of the four of them – Marianne, Lelouch, and Nunnally, with Charles towering above them. Even after they'd divorced, Marianne had allowed the painting to remain, and this was something he'd always barely managed to refrain from asking about.

"Lelouch?" calls a voice from the upper level, and Suzaku recognizes it as Nunnally's. He feels oddly threatened; though she is by no means physically imposing, there remains a lingering fear that for whatever reason, she won't want him here. Since he talked to her as little as he did Lelouch over the past few years, Nunnally probably thinks he abandoned her...

"I'll be up soon," Lelouch responds, and Suzaku waits for him to remove his shoes so he can do so too, but he keeps them on. "Come to the kitchen."

This proves a lot easier than Suzaku would think, since this house is darker than it appeared to be from the outside, and so he does not have to see as much, compare as much. The kitchen is lit by an elaborate chandelier more suitable for a dining room, but the decor is as simple as he remembers, down to the last cherry barstool, on which a woman sits.

Marianne Lamperouge is as long-limbed and pale as always, a gender-switched, blue eyed Lelouch who today wears her abundant hair pulled off her face. Silver-rimmed glasses house squinting, concentrated eyes; a sewing needle juts from between pursed lips, presumably about to pierce the cotton skin of a doll lain across the lap of her apron. She is so engrossed in her work that she doesn't notice that either of them have come in.

"Mother," Lelouch says.

"Just a moment, Lelouch," she replies in a near whisper before finally sticking the needle into the doll and pulling it through. Evidently pleased with her own preciseness, Marianne looks admiringly at the doll for a moment before turning her gaze to her son. "Your sister ripped this yesterday. She was sure I wouldn't be able to fix it... but as always..."

Suzaku smiles. She had always been so sure of herself.

The needle and thread trail from the doll's leg, but Marianne places the unfinished project on the counter, eager to talk to Lelouch."Your car wash didn't go well, then?"

"I really have no idea how it went. I was on sign duty," he says bitterly.

"I know you aren't the strongest, Lelouch, nor should you hit women, but that Milly Ashford is a slave driver if I've ever seen one." She shakes her head and makes to continue, but breaks off in a gasp, eyes falling on Suzaku. "Lelouch!"

"Surprised?"

"Suzaku Kururugi," Marianne says with surprising fluidity, removing her glasses and shoving the barstool away. "It's been a long time since I've seen that face."

Suzaku, as is rather common for him, finds himself lost for words. A number of questions crawl up to his throat, but die there. All he manages is, "Hey," and a shaky smile he feels Lelouch appraise in his peripheral vision.

"Where exactly have you been?" she questions maternally, and his partiality toward her tendency to mother him comes rushing back full force. An answer to her question, however, does not.

"He's been working a lot," Lelouch supplies, "and only just got his own car to come visit."

Marianne gives Lelouch a look. "He can talk for himself." But she smiles again, limpid eyes taking him in. "You look very well, Suzaku. Good. I think that's good. Lelouch, put on some tea," she adds, without a look in her son's direction, but he does so promptly, rummaging about in a cabinet to Suzaku's right. Suzaku watches him, jarred by how hospitable he's being – and even more so by the smile the older boy gives him while he runs water to boil.

He talks with Marianne for a little while, disoriented by her kindness. But she had always been kind, and funny as one could be.

"Are you in the band with Lelouch at school?" She questions him while beginning to work on the doll again.

"Yeah. I play the saxophone."

Marianne _hmmm_s."Saxophone. Good, I think that's good. The saxophone is a strong instrument. It suits you. Just as the trumpet suits Lelouch."

"How do you figure, Mother?" Lelouch sighs, knowing he's facing an inevitable insult.

"Regal, but thin and wimpy."

She laughs. Suzaku laughs with her. It's almost as if he feels comfortable here. But only almost. "I don't like the sax all that much, actually. I wanted to play guitar."

"It's overrated," Marianne says assuredly. "Or so I always thought. Guitarists are over emotional."

Suzaku thinks of Rivalz and crack a smile; Lelouch, evidently sharing this train of thought, catches his eye and smiles as well. A curious sort of feeling overtakes him at this point, and he wants to look away, but this niche of familiarity is just too fitting. Luckily, the older boy seems to be a bit stronger-willed, and turns his eyes back onto his mother.

"So you're doing well in school, Suzaku? Getting the grades you always used to?"

"Pretty much," he lies with a surprisingly straight face. "My job, you know... takes a little time away."

"You have a job, too. Good, I think that's good." Marianne stands up, collects her sewing things, and strides across the kitchen to a cabinet containing like materials. She put the things away with utmost care, her meticulous movements reminiscent of Lelouch's once more. "Well, you know, Suzaku - "

She breaks off, looking about wildly at the distant sound of their sizable front door closing. Lelouch seems to have a nervousness about him too; he makes quick work of the floor, rounding on Suzaku. "I think it's time you left."

"What?" Suzaku asks. "Why so – I mean, I don't want to pry, but - "

"Good. Don't." An intensity overtakes Lelouch, his eyes hard and commandeering. Though his grip on Suzaku's arm isn't very strong, it's more intimidating than anything, and cannot be ignored; besides, he's steering Suzaku across the room, pulling him to the screen door beyond which insects buzz in the night. "Hurry up. Get going."

The increasing volume of footsteps elsewhere in the house clues Suzaku into something he isn't exactly sure of, and on Lelouch's urging, after the older boy wrenches open the door, he clambers out onto the deck, gazing curiously back into the house for the shortest moment before being faced with Lelouch's shiny eyes.

"Didn't you hear me, Suzaku? Get out of here!"

"Er," Suzaku says intelligently, giving a short nod before hurrying off down the damp steps; the air reeks with the scent of rainfall. "I'll see you at school, then."

Lelouch goes back into the house, closes the door behind him, and draws the curtain. Stunned, Suzaku rushes down the winding path toward his leaf-strewn car, wondering exactly what just happened in the house he used to call home.

––—∞—––

When they return to school, Suzaku has a creeping feeling that Lelouch is angry with him. Obsessively, he replays everything he said that night, but could find nothing that would have offended Lelouch or Marianne. It must have been their visitor that spooked them, caused them to so hurriedly usher him out.

Still, he can't help but feel shunted by his former friend, only so quickly after their friendship had appeared to have been salvagable. As ambivalent as he may be about talking to Lelouch again, Suzaku has found that somewhere in these last few days, he must have crossed the line, because being ignored by Lelouch hurts even more than it did before.

"So he's just stopped talking to you?" Gino asks as they wipe down trays before close Tuesday night. "Weird. Are you sure you didn't do anything?"

"Trust me," Suzaku dips his rag in sanitizer, "I've been through it a million times. I didn't do anything."

"Well, could be family issues," says his blond friend in a way that signifies he really isn't as concerned as Suzaku would like him to be. "Everyone's got 'em. Well, except you. You're lucky."

"Lucky," Suzaku repeats dully, and thinks about the many meanings of that five-letter word as he wipes down the pizza-sludge covered trays.

Gino groans and he realizes there must be an unwelcome late-night customer; however, it isn't entirely unwelcome, as Euphemia is the one he sees approaching the counter. His spirits lift just the slightest bit, but maybe it's just the smile she's giving him.

"Suzaku! Hi. I thought this was where you worked. Hhh." She looks harried, but he's sure he looks worse than that. Euphemia says nothing else, but reaches a manicured hand into her purse, rummaging with her own unique brand of purpose. At last - "I have your invitation."

"To...?"

"Milly's party! Of course, I don't know why they'd print invites, since it's _required, _but." She hands him the flowery stationery, a prim smile on her face. Dreading its contents, Suzaku opens the invitation quickly, and hands it to Gino.

"A party on Milly's riverboat," the blond relays, smirking. "At least that gives us an opportunity to spend a day at the lake."

"You think this is a good thing?" asks Suzaku dryly.

"If-it-helps-I'll-go-with-you," Euphemia says in a single breath, avoiding his eyes by focusing on the menu behind their heads. "I may get something to eat while I'm here, too." Mortified by her own boldness, Suzaku can tell he may as well answer quickly before the majorette has a conniption.

"Yeah, sure," he says. "We've just got to find someone for the big guy here."

Gino chuckles. "I think I've got it covered." Though it's honestly very unlikely as drab pickup lines and ass-backwards attempts at charming girls have never really worked for anyone, no matter how chiseled their features may be. "Well, anyway, thanks for comin' by, Euphy! I may just box you up a pie for the trouble..."

As his friend attempts to work his misguided magic on her, Suzaku wanders into the breakroom, takes a seat. Stupid parties played off as group functions is just another perk of having joined band. That and being awkwardly partnered with -

Lelouch, he'll be at the party. His heart thumps a little at the thought.

There's a crashing noise up front – Gino's dropped a pizza pan, possibly due to a case of Euphy-induced butterfingers. Suzaku smiles.

Visions of the upcoming party. Maybe they'll talk, exercise their newfound civility over possibly-spiked drinks, strike up more whispered gossip among their idiotic fellow band members. Because after all, being members of the band doesn't put them on the same social level. Neither does being childhood friend

But recently he's gotten the impression that, maybe, possibly, those overdramatic high school echelons don't hold as much influence over Lelouch as they do over his new fair-weather friends. Or, perhaps, he's motivated to talk to Suzaku only by guilt and a desire for closure.

_Well, _Suzaku thinks as he takes a bite of stale pizza from the scarred Formica table, _whatever works._

––—∞—––

A rainstorm precedes school the next morning; Suzaku's hair is still damp by Chemistry. He does not get to endure a lecture from Mrs. Lowmeyer about personal hygiene, because Lelouch makes a beeline for him in the hallway. An uncharacteristic move.

"Suzaku," he says in a pointed voice. "Do you feel like going to class today?"

The question takes a moment to register. "Er, well, I guess I do, I mean, we have the project and all. Why?"

Lelouch looks at him a moment, and smiles evasively. "The bell hasn't rang yet, has it?" Suzaku shakes his head, frown forming at his brow. He knows Lelouch does have a bit of a class cutting habit, particularly this year, but he can't be asking if Suzaku will partake. Can he? "The roof above the teachers' lounge has the best view. I'll show you."

As per usual, the brunet finds his tongue palsied by the expression on Lelouch's face. He shuts his locker and lets out a sigh. Lelouch watches him expectantly.

The school is unfortunately large, a famous source of much frustration for new students and old ones alike. Labyrinthine and littered with unused classrooms, Suzaku realizes how easy it really is to get away with skipping class around here, especially considering the fact that the principal, Milly's grandfather, wouldn't know how to install a security camera or even about their existence. It seems Lelouch is very appreciative of these deficiencies.

Still, Suzaku can't help but wonder _why_ Lelouch seems so keen on inviting him along. When they reach the roof, though, the sun blinds him and these worries melt away.

"It couldn't be hotter out here."

Lelouch says nothing, just strides over to the nearest wall and settles against it. From his unremarkable black bag he unearths an unremarkable black book, and shoots an expectant look the other's way. The wall is hot against the back of Suzaku's uniform jacket.

For more than a few minutes, they sit in complete silence.

"Are you excited for the party?" Lelouch asks a little while later, obviously keen to break the silence.

"Sort of," Suzaku replies, lost in thought.

Lelouch turns the page in his book. "Should be interesting."

And reader, it certainly will be.

––—∞—––

**For the general readers: **Well, there you have it, parte un of my little side project I've been working on. It's a little different, but I just couldn't let go of the idea. Thoughts? Concrit? Praise? Hit ze review button.

**To Ash, for whom I wrote the story: **I'm sorry it took me forever to write this, but you know how strapped for time I am these days. :'D Also, just to share, I picture Suzaku's apartment as a duplicate of your mother's. I have no clue why, but I really can't really help myself on again. If things turn out the way he'd hoped.  
I tried to make the story as sweet as I could, but my appetite for angst never wavers. I also apologize for any errors I may have made concerning mechanics of a marching band, as I'm a ROTC kid. Next chapter comes soon! :D


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